


A Conversation

by allirica



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Family, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mentioned Gordon Livesy, Past Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:53:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26913946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allirica/pseuds/allirica
Summary: a conversation between Aaron and Cain in the scrapyard, set shortly after the Gordon reveal.Because let's face it, Cain's a better father figure to Aaron.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 31





	A Conversation

**Author's Note:**

> content warnings for: discussion of Gordon and his sexual abuse of Aaron; implied self-harm; heavy themes and angst.

They don’t talk.

It isn’t an awkward silence, exactly; there’s nothing stilted in the way Cain works, and he doesn’t avoid Aaron as he helps him strip down the old heap of junk they’re working on. Aaron reckons there isn’t really anything worth saving from the scrap – not anything that will sell for enough to make the effort worth it, anyway – but Cain’s here, giving him a hand since Adam’s busy, and it’s…good. It reminds him of when they worked in the garage together. They’ve had their ups and downs, but Cain’s always been a somewhat stable element in his life, and, especially right now, Aaron needs that, more than he’s comfortable admitting.

Still. There’s a lot that’s going unsaid between them. It makes the brittle air thick, makes Aaron’s gloved fingers even more clumsy as he fumbles to take the hunk of grimy, rusted metal Cain hands his way. He barely looks it over before tossing it into the growing heap of parts. They can sell the scrap metal, but there’s no point trying to give the pieces of machinery a new life: they’re well past it.

He picks up a mug of tea, still hot; little wisps of steam curl off the surface, briefly warming the cold afternoon. He takes a gulp of it, letting the stinging burn in his mouth and throat fortify him, and then he finally breaks the silence that’s been stretching between them for the past two and a half hours.

“You haven’t shoved me into any walls lately.”

Cain slants him a look. “Why? You done something that warrants it?”

Aaron opens his mouth to say ‘no’, but then pauses, considers it. Then he shrugs. “Depends on what you reckon warrants it, I suppose.”

He just smirks, gaze passing over the innards of the car with easy, experienced confidence. “Always in some sort of trouble,” he remarks. “That’s the Dingle way.”

“Why?”

“Always has been, I suppose.”

Aaron shakes his head. “No,” he clarifies. “I mean, why haven’t ya? Why are you going easy on me?”

Cain straightens slightly, frowns at him. “You reckon I’m going easy on ya?”

“As opposed to your usual…yeah.” Aaron shrugs and takes another steady drink of his brew. “It’s just – it’s weird. I don’t get it.”

He sighs. It’s obvious he doesn’t want to talk about it. Cain never wants to talk about it – not the heavy stuff, anyway. Usually, they have that in common. They’re both good at burying things; Cain with his cold, simmering silence, and Aaron – well, Aaron turns it on himself. But Aaron knows Cain isn’t going to deflect or avoid the conversation, not this time, and he appreciates it enough to stay silent and do his best to remain patient as Cain thinks it over.

“’Cause I found out the truth about Gordon,” he says finally. His tone is even, on the edge of brittle; he’s putting distance there, between himself and the truth he’s talking about. “Reckoned pushing you around…just bullying, ain’t it? Like him. I thought you’d be glad.”

Aaron swallows. Part of him is relieved; he’d wondered, deep down, if maybe Cain just couldn’t stand to be around him anymore, if he thought Aaron was _different_ – tainted, ruined. He’d wondered if Cain thought less of him. This is…better…than that, but it’s also not what Aaron wants. He doesn’t want to be seen like that. Like a _victim_. Like he’s someone who needs to be handled with care.

“I never thought you were like him,” he says quietly. “I didn’t mind it. The pushing around. I mean, I _did_ , but not ‘cause of what you think. I hero worshipped you, remember?” 

“You here worshipped him once and all,” Cain points out, and Aaron flinches.

“Not really, though. Not deep down.”

“So how _did_ you feel? Deep down?” Cain looks at him. His voice is steady, his gaze calm. Aaron doesn’t buy it for a second. He knows there’s still a brutal rage boiling under that cool surface when Cain talks about Gordon.

“I hated him,” he replies. “Proper hated him. Like – like, sometimes I wish I wasn’t such a coward, that I’d just reach out and smack him. Make _him_ feel small and scared for once.”

That’s the easier part to admit. Cain will understand that, will get Aaron’s desperation for violence, his anger and hatred. He has to force himself to say the next words, shame staining every single one.

“But I loved him, too. Hated that I loved him, fucking _hated_ it, but I did. I was so angry and so scared and so – so fucking guilty, but I also…I just wanted him to _love_ me. The way he loved Sandra and Liv. I wanted him to be my dad. I wanted so badly to be good enough for that. I tried, I tried really hard, but it were never good enough.”

He feels better for spilling it, for acknowledging those feelings out loud. Cain’s expression doesn’t change; he doesn’t look at Aaron with the judgement or confusion that he’d half been fearing. Instead, he just nods slowly, like what Aaron’s saying makes sense, and the relief he feels makes Aaron exhale a sharp breath.

“But you were different,” he continues. “Yeah, you pushed me around, but you still looked out for me. You cared about me. You’re my uncle, but – but you treat me like I’m your own. I’ve never been scared of ya, Cain. Not like that. Not like I were scared of him.”

Cain’s silent for a long moment. He nods again, just once, and then says, “Alright. So you’re saying you _do_ want me to shove you around when you’re being a prat, then?”

Aaron huffs a laugh. “I’m saying that I don’t want you to treat me differently. I don’t want ya walking on eggshells or – or seeing me as something fragile or vulnerable. I ain’t. I’m stronger than that now. I’m stronger than _him_. And I don’t hero worship you anymore, Cain, but you’re still my uncle. You’re still – you’re more than that, you know. I’m not scared of ya.”

“Okay.”

Aaron blinks. “Okay?”

“Okay. I believe ya.” Cain straightens, wiping his hands clean on his jeans. He pauses, then adds, “You’re not a coward, you know.”

Aaron swallows the dregs of his tea and sets the mug down before he glances back at Cain. “What?”

“You’re not weak, or fragile, or a coward. You’re the strongest person I know. He was the coward in the end and you stood up to him.” Cain shoves his hands into the pockets of his coat. “You stood up to me and all, when it were the right thing to do. You’re the best of us, you know that?”

Aaron thinks about Zak, and Lisa, thinks about his mum and Belle and Debbie, and thinks – _the best of us? Not even close_. 

“My record would say otherwise,” he points out.

“I don’t give a fuck about your record,” Cain argues. “You are. You’re the best of us. I’m proud of ya, Aaron. I’m proud to call you my own.”

He’s not going to cry. Not because he’s ashamed to cry in front of Cain; he’s not, hasn’t been for a long time, not since he’d seen Cain at his weakest and most vulnerable, and saw that it didn’t make Cain any less strong…that it didn’t make Cain any _less_. He knows Cain wouldn’t judge him for crying. But the rush of emotion he feels is a cleansing kind, a good kind, and he doesn’t want to cry – he just wants to let himself _be_ for a while.

“Cheers, Cain,” he manages.

Cain nods, then schools his expression. “Right,” he says. “If you want a hug, you can do one. Reckon I could pay for a pint, though.”

Aaron snorts, grabbing the keys to lock up the cabin. “Pint’s fine,” he replies. “You look like you haven’t showered for a week, so I’d rather keep my distance anyway.”

Cain scoffs and pushes him. Just a slight shove, knocking Aaron a tiny step sideways as they approach the office. It’s playful and careless, and Aaron grins.

**Author's Note:**

> \---> find me on tumblr: allirica.tumblr.com


End file.
